


Daddy Lessons

by SpeckledCoffeeCups



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Daddy Kink, Drinking, Hamilton Gift Exchange 2k16, I'm an awful person please forgive me, M/M, smutty smut smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 15:31:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8758603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpeckledCoffeeCups/pseuds/SpeckledCoffeeCups
Summary: Alexander works himself to death, but Jefferson is placed in charge of the man for the night.  Simply get him home sober and to bed before 9 right?Wrong.  And Hamilton's got a few secrets up his sleeve





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [STUMPEDD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/STUMPEDD/gifts).



> This was fun.  
> I learned I'm a master procrastinator so that's new.   
> enjoy buddy hope you enjoy it!

A single sheet of paper is slammed onto the mahogany desk startling the small Latino.

“What the actual fuck is this?” Thomas Jefferson glares, hip cocked, and a snarl on his lips.

Alexander pulls one headphone out, not in the mood to deal with Jefferson’s emotional outburst.

“Excuse me?” He comments reaching for his coffee.

“This!  You think this- this ignorant, under developed piece of shit plan- is going to fly on the senate floor?” Alexander puffs his cheeks out, blowing air between his lips.

“Thomas, I’m not sure what you’re referring to, but I’m not dealing with this right now.  I have three essays to finish before the cabinet meeting tomorrow, and Washington needs his speech re-written as well.”

“Wh-what! I wrote that speech!” Jefferson cries and Hamilton rolls his eyes placing his earbud back in his ear.

“I noticed.” He comments and twiddles his fingers for a moment before typing a flurry of words. “And its shit.  Unless you’re here to apologize about wasting my time, please leave.  I have so much to do.” He states and runs a hand over his face and hair, strands falling from the bun and framing his worn face.

Jefferson quickly looks Hamilton over; dirty hair, dark circles stark against pale skin, and bloodshot eyes.  It’s no difference from his new normal, looking like he just crawled out of bed, but Washington’s concerned. 

_“If he works himself to death I won’t forgive myself.”_

Jefferson had laughed and sipped at his glass of merlot but seeing Hamilton now, he understands Washington’s concern.  Thomas continues towards his office in Mount Vernon, debating if he should stop in at Angelica’s office.  Some people, John Adams, were opposed to letting a woman on the staff, but she’s been the best publicist Washington could ask for. He pauses outside Angelica’s office, and knocks before speaking.

“Mrs. Church?” There’s a stall in conversation for a moment, before the solid click of heels echoes.  The door opens in the next moment and Angelica holds herself against Thomas’s gaze.

“What Jefferson?” She asks sharply.

“I… if this is a bad time I can come back later.” He retorts just as gruffly. Angelica looks him up and down and then sighs.

“Come in.” She turns on her heels, surprisingly balanced for her choice of footwear. Clicking her way back to her desk she sits down and talks quickly to the person on the other line before bidding goodbye and closing her Macbook.

Thomas sits in one of the chairs, and crosses his ankle on his knee and slouching.  His posture is completely relaxed which only makes Angelica sigh.

“What did you need?” She asks, the authoritative tone gone from her voice.

“Needed an opinion,” She sighs and leans back crossing her arms.

“Thomas.”

“Not like that.” He retorts and places a hand on his sternum in mock hurt. “What do you peg me for Angie? I’m hurt.”

“Thomas.” She repeats sterner. 

“Okay, okay.” He wets his lips as he breathes deeply. “Have you noticed anything different about Hamilton?” He questions and Angelica leans back, crossing her arms.

“What do you mean different? As in he looks more like the walking personification of death than normal? Then yes.” Thomas rolls his eyes but can’t argue. Angelica is more than accurate with her description.

“Well… Yes frankly.” Thomas replies as Angelica slides a Reese’s towards him. “Thank you.”

“He’s working on those essays with Jay and Madison right?”

“Jay got terribly sick two weeks ago.  Since then Hamilton took on more of the project.”

Angelica sighs and peels the wrapper off the chocolate candy frustrated. “Damnit Hamilton,”  

Thomas scoffs.

“We should get him in contact with Burr, maybe that will slow him down.”

“Or irritate him.  I was talking to Eliza before you came in and she can’t even get to him.” She comments and sips her iced tea watching Jefferson’s body language. On first glance he’s relaxed but upon closer inspection he’s tense.  All muscles coiled for an attack that’s never going to come.

“Tommy,” he glances towards her, waiting for her to continue. “Why are you so concerned about Hamilton.  I thought you didn’t care for him.”

His eyebrows shoot up, intrigued by her statement.  “Me. Not caring about Hamilton?” He scoffs and rolls his eyes before his voice drops to a quiet anxious level. “Please, I care too much but that boy is no more than an ignorant child. Can’t keep his opinions to himself and it’s going to get him killed.”

“That’s a bad thing?” Angelica presses, leaning her elbows on her desk.

“Angie,” Thomas replies and she cocks an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips, urging him to finish his thought. He sighs. “It is a bad thing he’s fucking brilliant, but he’s also a wildfire that can’t be stopped.  I don’t know what was going on between him and Laurens, but Laurens calmed him.” Thomas comments rolling his neck to release a kink that settled there.

Outside the room shouting can be heard.

“But sir!”

“Go home Alexander.  You look like the wrong side of death-“ Thomas meets eyes with Angelica who stands slowly, leaning towards the sound.

“I’m fine sir, it’s just been a few sleepless nights!”

“Alexander you are swaying!  Go home, take a break and recuperate.”

“I can’t!” Alexander’s voice breaks and Thomas feels a pain in his chest as the words settle in his brain.

His constant working isn’t to create the most in a short period of time.  It’s to distract himself from something. Something painful enough that he can’t-

John Laurens.  Hamilton was incredibly close with the boy, to the point rumors of romantic interests floated through the capital. 

And then he died unexpectedly from a gun fight caused by lingering Loyalists in South Carolina.

“Son,” A low sigh is heard from the other side of the door. “Go home, I’ll have Angelica call Elizabeth and she can drive.”

“But sir-“

“Hamilton.  Let someone care about you for once.  Please.” George knocks on the door and the two exchange a look before Angelica speaks.

“Come in,” the door creaks open slowly, revealing George Washington, just as worn as Hamilton.

“I’m sorry am I interrupting something?” he asks glancing between the two.  The scene is odd, but George ignores it.

“Not at all sir.  Reese’s?” Angelica offers but he declines.

“No thank you.  Could you call your sister and have her come pick up Hamilton?”

Angelica worries her perfect lip for a moment before speaking. “She isn’t back to Virginia yet sir.”

Thomas swallows and speaks up, the decision rash, last minute.

“I can take him home.”

George looks Thomas over and nods after a moment of mental debate.

“Thank you.” Thomas nods walking towards the door, but is grabbed by George, holding him back. “Watch him for me.  I’m worried about him.”

Georges kind dark eyes scan Thomas for any sign of malevolence.  Finding none he releases him. Thomas exits the room and Alex groans loudly turning and throwing his hands to his side.

“I’m not letting Jefferson fucking babysit me!  I don’t need to go home sir, please let me finish the day.” He begs spinning back around to face George.  His eyes plead for any other answer over going home.

“Alexander,”

“Please sir,”

“Go home Alexander.  I’ll see you tomorrow.” George says finitely turning and retreating to his office. Once the door is shut, Hamilton groans loudly.

“Fuck this! There’s no way I’m going home with you.”

“Hamilton.  Shut up.  And hurry.  I have a bottle of champagne calling my name.” He bribes and Alexander stands his ground, pouting like a petulant child. “Hamilton.”

Alexander slowly moves to follow Jefferson out the front door.  In the early fall of November, the crisp winds off the Atlantic are chilly compared to the warm air. Alex shivers under his sweater despite the heat, and Jefferson notices.  Leading him to his black Mercedes, Jefferson slides in and turns on the heat low.  Alex burrows his chin into his sweater collar and crosses his arms as Thomas pulls out of his parking spot.

They sit in silence for a moment before Alex speaks up.

“Why?” Thomas risks a glance to the small immigrant sitting to his right.

“What?”

“Why are you doing this.” His voice is even and challenging. “Why are you helping me.” Alexander demands.  “I’m not some child, who needs hovered over.  I’m more than able to take care of myself-“

“Hamilton.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.” Jefferson comments narrowing his eyes as he pulls onto the highway.  Alexander grumbles but remains in general silence for the rest of the ride.  The only time he speaks up is when Jefferson turns away from Monticello and towards the city.

“Where are you going?” he asks with a grumble and an uncrossing of his arms.

“My DC estate.  You really think I drive two hours to work every day?” He asks accusingly. He may be pretentious but what Alex has suggested is asinine.

“Your estate! No take me home!” Alex demands sitting up straighter.  Thomas scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Please.  I don’t trust you to go to sleep. At least at my place I can smoother you with a pillow if that’s what it takes for you to rest.” The younger of the two glares at the road and tucks his chin into his chest.

Thomas sighs and leans back into his seat merging to the right to pull off at his exit.  Hamilton remains silent his fingers anxiously curling and uncurling in the spare fabric of his sweater.  He doesn’t want or need to be baby sat, let alone by Thomas Jefferson of all people. Thomas has his own shit to worry about, such as his dead wife, and building a position for himself in the new government. Why he agreed to take Alexander home is beyond him.  It’s not like there’s anything he can gain from helping him besides gossip, and even that is useless.  The entire Presidential Cabinet knows he doesn’t sleep, and that he works himself to death.

“Alexander,” Thomas says as he parks his car in the garage. Alex glares but unbuckles himself and steps from the vehicle anyways. “This way,” Thomas instructs leading him to the house.  Digging for his keys Hamilton swallows and looks the other way. He doesn’t want to be here, really doesn’t.  If Washington sent him here, it must be to get something from him.  Figure out why he isn’t sleeping, why he’s insistent on working himself to death, why he won’t take a god damn break.

Thomas places a hand on the small of his back and directs him through the house to the kitchen.  Alex follows simply because he doesn’t know his way through this mansion, and he’s intrigued. 

What in hell is Jefferson planning to do?

He voices as much, and Jefferson snorts and slides a water bottle across the counter.

“I’m trying to keep you alive, and follow orders from Washington.” He states and pulls two boxes from the cabinet debating before pushing both back and pulling out eggs and cheese. “Do you preffer scrambled or dippy?”

“Dippy?” Alex voices confused.

“Like the yoke intact.”

“You mean over easy.” Alex corrects slowly.  Jefferson sighs and pulls out the champagne and two stemless glasses.

“Looks like we’re drinking early.” He comments in a low voice.  Alex rolls his eyes but works on peeling the gold shit off.

“Don’t be mad because I know how to fucking speak.” Alex grumbles and Thomas sighs as he beats his eggs.

“What kind of eggs do you want Hamilton.  If you don’t give me an answer you’re not getting any.” He comments agitated.  Alex rolls his eyes but laughs when he finally gets the paper off the bottle.  Jefferson glances towards him concerned.

“I can’t ever get this off… Laurens…. Never mind. Would you like a glass now or later?” He asks as he angles the bottle away from him and works the stopper out. A satisfying pop sounds and Jefferson waves his hand behind him in an indifferent manner.

“I don’t care, just don’t drink the entire bottle.” Thomas comments as he pushes the eggs around the pan.  Alex pours himself a hefty glass of the sparkling alcohol, and sips it while he waits for Jefferson to finish cooking. He’s rather relaxed in his home, and Jefferson can’t decide if it is an attempt to annoy him or if Alexander is truly comfortable here. He hears a hiccup from behind him and glances over his shoulder.  Alexander is covering his mouth, his ears tinged red from a blush that has spread across his cheeks.

“Was that-“

“Shut up Jefferson, or I swear to God I will walk out right now.” Hamilton snaps from behind his hand.

“You’re a fucking lightweight aren’t you!  I knew it!”

“I’m a small man you think it takes a lot?” Alex retorts making Jefferson cackle. Alex grumbles but doesn’t move from his seat, just refills his glass. Thomas eyes him as he scoops the eggs onto two different plates.

“I thought I said not to drink my entire bottle.” Alex rolls his eyes as he sets the bottle down.

“I deserve a drink if I’m going to be stuck here.” He mumbles sipping down his glass.  He’s a fast drinker, quicker than Jefferson would expect for someone who’s as small and urgernt as Hamilton.

He eats slowly, only finishing his eggs after his fourth glass, and after the bottle being emptied in his glass. His cheeks are flushed, hair slowly falling from his bun, and eyes glassy but excited.  Something about getting drunk is loosening him up, and Jefferson is torn between falling even more entranced with this Caribbean big shot or backing up and sending him home.  Alexander hiccups again and Thomas chooses neither.

“It’s four thirty and you’re drunk off your ass.  You’re going to bed.”

“But Thomas,” Alex whines like a petulant child and Thomas sighs.

“Bed.” Alex throws his head back dramatically and groans.

“Whatever dad,” Thomas blushes. Dad?  All he’s doing is trying to keep the man safe.  Drunk at four thirty on a Thursday.  He doesn’t care what others say this isn’t pre-game for Friday, this is Alex being stupid and careless. Thomas bites his tongue to keep silent, and Alex notices.

“What never had someone -hiccup- call you daddy before Thomas? Too good -hiccup- for that?” Alex slurs.  Thomas groans and rolls his eyes, pushing aside the unfamiliar feeling in his gut.

“Doesn’t matter.  Come on Alexander,” Thomas comments and grabbing his shoulder and manhandling him from the chair.

“Sure daddy,” Alex teases, tripping over his feet as he follows Thomas guiding direction. “Are you going to fuck me too? Or is that for later when I’m a good boy,”

Thomas feels a stirring in his stomach and he swallows down the confusion. “Alexander.  Shut up.”

“You gonna make me?” Alex demands and Thomas narrows his eyes speaking the first thought on his mind.

“If you don’t shut your mouth you drunk idiot, I’m gonna strap you to the fucking bed…”

Shit.

Alex smirks, and saunters ahead of Thomas until he realizes he doesn’t completely know where he’s going. Thomas mentally berates himself, not wanting to give Alexander any advantage over him.  It’s unsettling, the grin Alex gave him, the way he swirls the champagne in his still half full glass. He walks with more swagger than necessary, Thomas unable to pull his eyes away from the movement of his body.  The sway of Alex’s hips that was completely unnecessary, by the way, and the way he stretches above his head showing off the dimples in his back. Thomas pulls his eyes away, catching the eyes of his past wife in a photo above his fireplace. He feels guilt wash over him, he promised her, he would never love again, and it was a foolish promise but he meant it.  He swallows back bile that’s rose in his throat and knocks hips with Alexander as he passes him to lead him to the guest room. His daughters are out of town, at school in France with the Marquis de Lafayette acting as loco parentis, so the house is empty until they return in three weeks.

Three weeks.  Three weeks to win over –

No.  His Martha would be disappointed in him.

“You just going to stand there?” Alex hollered. Thomas’s eyes narrow at the accusation.

“It’s my house, I’ll stand where ever I please.” He retorts and grasps Alex’s shoulder man handling him into the bed room. “Now sleep.  I don’t want you dying.”

“Aww my daddy cares for me,” Alex flirts, wagging his hips off beat.

“Oh my god Hamilton we are not doing this.” Thomas snaps and Alex smirks.

“What, does this make you uncomfortable Thomas.  The high and mighty Thomas Jefferson getting flustered by a little immigrant bastard.”

“Hamilton that’s enough.” Thomas chides but Alex doesn’t stop, his oddly flirtatious comments turning to self deprication.

“What?  Are you going to use me than toss me aside too Jefferson? Like some used up piece of garbage?”

“Hamilton what do you mean?” He scans Hamilton’s small but suddenly violent frame. “Is…. This about Laurens?”

“Don’t fucking say his name like that.” Hamilton snaps.

“Like what?”

“Like you knew him…” Alex drops his glass and it shatters on the floor, champagne soaking the pompous rug and floor.  “You didn’t know him, no one did.”

Thomas steps around the mess of glass and champagne to reach the small man who’s clutching his arms tightly and breathing in. “Did you?  Know him?” Thomas asks and Alex laughs, the sound resembling a strangled cat.

“Of course I knew him.  He was my first friend here.  He… loved me, and I love him.”  Alex mumbles and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes.  

“So it’s true,” Thomas mumbles sitting next to him. “You and John were a thing.”

Alex snorts loudly pushing his hand through his hair, taking his hair band out with the motion. “We were engaged.  Don’t act like you’ve never heard of two men loving each other like women do, Thomas.”

Thomas sighs. “Alex,”

“What you wanted me to be honest with the rest of the cabinet?  You can’t control me daddy.” He comments the name like a slur.

“No,” Thomas snaps back without missing a beat. “I was going to ask if that was the reason Mr. Washington was pushing for the LBGTQ+ bill to be passed so heavily. But if you’re going to be a brat-“

“Don’t.” Alex comments his hands moving from his arms to the grip the bed sheets. “Unless you’re going to commit to that… Don’t threaten me with a good time Thomas Jefferson. Unless you’re going to love me like he did i-“

“Alexander,” Thomas can only sigh.  “Get some sleep, we will talk in the morning.” Thomas comments standing and moving to the door.  His hand is on the knob when Alex speaks up.

“You… won’t tell right?” He asks, a hiccup escaping his lips. Thomas studies Alexander for a brief moment.  This is the most relaxed he’s seen him since Laurens was killed, and his body is still so tense.

“I won’t. Goodnight Alex.”

“Goodnight….” He debates adding a daddy comment to the end of the sentence but stays silent. Thomas closes the door and moves to the kitchen to clean the mess from dinner.  As he cleans he thinks.

Alexander Hamilton is gay, no queer.  He flirts shamelessly with Angelica’s sister but it may simply be a front.

 _Focus Thomas_.

His eyes wander to his Martha, her picture hanging over the fire place.  He releases the skillet he was scrubbing and meets her frozen, pale grey eyes. She was beautiful, long wavy hair, curvy figure.  She loved their children so much.

And he promised her he would not love another.  He lets himself think of her.  Would she be okay with this had they separated by divorce, god forbid that would have been worse than death.  He thinks of her kind spirit, always ready to forgive him and their daughters, no matter what they did.  When Patsy dropped her mother’s tennis bracelet down the drain as a baby, when Polly colored on the walls, and when he totaled their car coming back from a shift she didn’t want him to take. She always loved them.  He swallows as he focuses on the wedding band. He’s never going to remove it. 

But Alexander.  He’s been pinning for Alexander for a year despite what he tells himself.  When Martha died he was heartbroken, and Patsy, his daughter of all people, had to take their father’s guns away and throw away the alcohol.  He regrets making his daughter grow up so fast, has admitted it to her, but she told him she forgave him years ago. 

If his daughter would forgive him then maybe his wife would too.  He calls her, quickly desperate to hear her voice. 

“Daddy?” She answers on the third ring. 

“He Pats, I need to ask you something.” He can hear rustling on the other end and bed springs squeaking. “Uh, is this a bad time?’

“No it’s fine,” the microphone is covered but he can hear his daughter bite out commands in French.  The responding voice is a woman’s.

“Patsy? Are you,”

“What, no, daddy everything is fine,” he catches a name, Anastasia. Lafayette’s daughter perchance?

“Patsy. Are you with a woman right now?” his tone implies the rest.  Only silence, then sniffling.

“Daddy don’t be mad at me, I’m sorry, but I’m not.  She’s so nice, and you’d love her. You’ve met her before and her Peré is fine with it-“

“Monsieur Lafayette is fine with everything Patsy.” Thomas comments hearing only silence before his suspicions are confirmed. Anastasia shouts loudly at his daughter, using a few explicit curses.

It takes a moment before he can speak again. “Patsy.  I still have a question for you,”

“You’re not mad right?” She asks desperately.

“No, I can’t be mad at you.” He responds.  “But darling.  I know this is a tricky question but please answer it for me,” he swallows and breathes out. “Would you be fine if I pursued another relationship?  I know your mother made me promise-“

“Daddy, momma meant well but that was shitty of her.” Thomas reels from the comment.

“Patsy-“

“No daddy, hear me out.  Momma was sick and dying and I still love her, but she knew you were helplessly in love with her.  Making you promise that while she was dying was shitty.  So no I don’t care if you find another partner as long as you are happy, and they spoil me.” She comments, adding the end lyric with a teasing tone.  Thomas smiles and aches for his daughters.  He reminds himself it’s only going to be another six months before they are finished with schooling and back in the States.

“Alright. Thank you Patsy.”

“You’re welcome daddy.  I’ll call you Saturday okay?” her voice is a bit more desperate, and Thomas agrees immediately enforcing his call anytime policy.  They say their goodbyes, and Thomas sets his phone to the side as he refocuses on his task of washing dishes.

Patsy approves.  She doesn’t even know who it is but she approvals… and she’s doing something with Anastasia de La Fayette, probably of the sexual nature, but that’s not the point.

Thomas sets the skillet to the side, the suds slipping down the side of the metal, when arms wrap around his waist. He jumps but relaxes momentarily when a cheek nuzzles the space between his shoulder blades.

“Alexander,”

“Thomas… would you ever consider taking me?” Thomas shudders and Alex smiles against the folds of his sweater. “I thought so,”

“Alexander you are drunk.”

“I prefer the term lightly buzzed.” He replies.  Thomas sighs.

“Alexander if you want to have this conversation we will have it in the morning.” Jefferson says pushing Hamilton’s arms off his waist. Alexander grumbles before grabbing Thomas’s arms and pressing a kiss that’s more teeth than lips against his neck. 

“Remember that for the morning Jefferson,” He comments before swaggering off again.  Thomas blushes and clutches his neck, the point of contact ablaze.

Fuck.

He slowly returns his focus to the dishes, and then to deep cleaning his kitchen, ever imperfection standing out to him.

It takes him 30 minutes to finish that.  He silently curses his house keeper for being so tidy. He moves onto the rest of the house deep cleaning every surface till his knuckles are sore, and his back aches.  Finally done with the guest bath, he straightens himself, his back cracking as he stands to his full height.

He takes a moment to contemplate doing more work, but settles on going to bed early for the night.  He knows the reason he’s working is to push the thoughts of Hamilton, naked and pliant under him as he calls him pet names like brat, and darling, and asking him to do things for daddy, flood his mind.  He rubs his face with his palm as he contemplates the name, feet tripping up the stairs.  He’s not sure if he likes it, but isn’t opposed to exploring the topic. He yawns as he pushes his door open and his hands slip under his clothes, tugging them off and slipping under his pristine covers.

 Sleep comes quickly, but is dreamless, like most nights since his wife died five years ago. It’s not surprising in the slightest to him when he wakes in the morning realizing he didn’t dream, but it’s still depressing.  He slowly rolls himself to a sitting position, grabbing a hair tie from the bed side table pulling his hair from his face.

Tugging flannel pajama pants over his ass Thomas grabs a t-shirt but doesn’t pull it on.  Making his way to his kitchen he rummages through the fridge bleary eyed and sleepy.  He has to be at work in 4 hours but Washington wouldn’t be upset if he was late, especially today.  He doubts Hamilton wants to wear any of his clothes, or wear his uniform from the day before.  He grumbles as he pulls out milk and a box of cereal, starting the coffee slowly.  A long few minutes pass until Alexander stumbles his way into the room from the guest hall.

“Morning.” Jefferson comments holding his coffee cup up.  Alex swallows, suddenly awake before turning and grabbing his own mug Jefferson filled for him. “Did you-“

“Have you thought about what I said last night.” Alex asks immediately jumping to the heart of the matter. Jefferson splutters, buying time for himself to think.

“Alexander,”

Alex tsks snapping his fingers.

“Quickly, I’m not going to wait all day.  Because if so we have 3 hours and 15 minutes until you need to leave to get me to my apartment.”

The brash and forward tone surprises Thomas.  Wasn’t this same man calling him daddy less than 24 hours ago?

“Alexander…”

“Come on now.  Are you willing to do this?” HE asks and Thomas swallows placing his cup down firmly.

Is he willing? He’s not opposed to Hamilton in the slightest, but this requires trust. But he’s feeling just as brash as Hamilton now and isn’t going to fight this.

“Everything stays in the bedroom.” Thomas comments and Alex freezes.

“Wait are you serious-“

“Don’t interrupt me. Brat.” It feels foreign on his tongue, but he can do this. “Now come here,” Thomas orders.  Alex nods and quickly makes his way to Thomas’s side.

“Can I-“

“Did I say you could talk?” Thomas asks and Alex swallows, closing his mouth quickly.  Thomas slowly reaches a hand to cradle Alex’s cheek and face. “If you’re going to talk, put that mouth to good use.” He says slowly leaning towards Alex’s body.  Alex’s eyes slip closed as he presses a kiss to Thomas’s mouth. 

God it was good.  He hadn’t been kissed in years, and to feel the tug and nip of someone else’s lip on his was comforting.

“Bed?” Alex breathes. Thomas nods and presses another kiss to Alex’s mouth.  He can’t, and doesn’t want to back out.

“Yeah. Be ready for me okay.” The order sounds more like a question coming from him but Alex takes it well running off quickly.  “My room!” he orders, watching as Alex humerously slips before scrambling up the stairs. Thomas takes a moment to breathe and think.  He has lube in his bedside table drawer but anything else.

Nope. 

He can do this.

He stands and makes his way up the stairs contemplating this.  He’s hooked up with a man before in college and it was good.  He can do this.

He pushes his door open, Alex fumbling with his briefs.

Thomas swallows and Alex blushes.

“Sorry daddy-“

“Bed Hamilton.  For someone who is urgent with everything else I expected the same with sex.” He teases. Alex swallows as he scrambles onto the bed, losing his briefs in the process.  He’s half hard already.

“I’m sorry daddy, please don’t,”

“Hamilton.” Thomas chides, as he tugs his pants down his legs. Alex nods nods, his eyes roaming Thomas’s body, unashamedly.

Thomas reminds himself this is probably the first time Hamilton has been with a man since Laurens.

“You know what to do right baby? Get yourself ready for me to use you.  Lube is in the top drawer.” Thomas comments leaning over the bed and pressing a kiss to Alex’s shoulder. Alex shudders but does as told, his fingers fumbling to grasp the slim bottle of lube.

He slicks his fingers before spreading his naked thighs, baring himself to Thomas. 

“Go slow for daddy okay,” Thomas mumbles the words coming out low and confident.  His hand slowly roams to his clothed cock rubbing the head against the fabric.  Hamilton inserts one finger without shame and moans.  It’s different watching a man finger themselves, but the action is just as arousing for Thomas had it been a woman.  Alex moves his fingers slowly before adding a second, and then a third.  By the time he’s pressing a fourth Thomas stops him. 

“I wanna,” He mumbles and leans to kiss Alex.  He grabs the bottle with one hand, and then pushes his briefs down.  “You clean?” He mumbles against the skin of his shoulder.

“Yes daddy,” Thomas nods and sits up coating his hand with the wet substance.  Stroking himself three times he lines himself against Alex’s hole, letting the pressure become familiar before moving himself into the man.  Alex moans loudly, a stream of obscenities falling off his tongue.

“Fuck, daddy, yes such a nice cock.” Thomas groans, letting the words fill him with the pride.

“Say it again.” He demands, rocking his hips slowly, his mouth finding a sweet spot above Alex’s right pec.

“You’re cock, so nice, so big I love it daddy, please,” He calls and Thomas groans pumping the man full of him.  Alex groans and grabs Thomas’s face to kiss him. “Such a nice cock so good.” He mumbles moaning loudly when Thomas hits a sweet spot inside of him.

“Fuck you’re so small.  I… I can’t hold on.” Thomas groans, surprised his stamina is so low.  It’s been 5 years though, so lasting this long is a plus.

“Please daddy fill me up.” Alex groans twisting his hips, sending Thomas into a messy moan that results with his mess filling Alex.

Alex comes moments later, his stringy hot spurts decorating their chests.

Thomas pulls out, ignoring the messy cum that’s soaking his sheets.

He breathes hard and Alex lets out a breath he was holding.

“So.”

“Yeah,”

“Is this gonna,”

“Too soon.  Ask me after lunch.” Thomas responds and Alex laughs tired.

“Sleep?”

“Yeah,”

And they do. 


End file.
